


A Well-Planned Assault

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Assault, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Prompt Fic, Watsonian whump, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 11:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4433171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson should have realized something was amiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Well-Planned Assault

**Author's Note:**

> Written for JWP #26: The One You Were Expecting. I was expecting a 'whump Watson' prompt by now, so that's what you're getting.  
> Warnings: Violence. Assault. Watsonian whump. And absolutely no beta. This was written in a huge rush. You have been warned.

It took me longer than it should have to realize that I was being followed. Even then, I was not unduly alarmed. I had been followed many times before over the years, usually when on cases with Holmes, but occasionally as now, when I was on my way to or from attending a patient.  It might be merely surveillance; it might be a prelude to something more sinister. In either case, the best solution was to change my course and walk towards one of the busier streets in this relatively quiet corner of London, where I might lose my follower in the crowds, or hail a cab, or come across a bobby on his rounds, or simply enjoy a greater amount of security from the presence of others.  
  
I adjusted my steps towards Wigmore Street. I turned the closest corner, only to find myself anticipated; five large men stood loitering on the nearby steps. I quickly crossed the street, only to find three more waiting for me.  
  
I recognized one from that group, as well as one from the group of five as they came up behind. No one else was in sight. I raised my walking-stick, to defend myself as realizations flashed through my mind like fireworks:  
  


 

    * _Some care must have been taken to ensure the privacy of this attack, which argued for a long-planned assault..._



 

    * _They must have learned Holmes was out of town on a case, as he had been for the last six weeks, or they would not have dared anything this brazen_...



 

    * _Chances were excellent that **I might not leave this street alive**..._



 

  
If I was to be a victim, I would make them pay for every drop of blood they shed as best as I could. I did not wait for them to start, but shouted for help at the top of my lungs as I swung forcefully at the one I judged the ringleader of this band of brutes.  
  
My blow was true, and their surprise at the suddenness and vigour of my self-defense won me a few extra moments, but the outcome of the battle was never truly in doubt. I was far too outnumbered, and the men far too practiced in their trade. My walking-stick cracked in my defense, then clattered to the pavement as a well-placed blow to my elbow paralyzed my grip. Then it was nothing but fists, and boots, and bludgeons, sending me to my knees and then to the ground, and pain exploding from my arms, my hands, my ribs, my legs.  
  
Dimly, through the tide of pain and onset of shock, I thought I heard a whistle of some kind. I caught a glimpse of a sap descending towards my temple, and then fire burst inside my skull.  
  
I knew nothing more.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted July 26, 2015


End file.
